


Three Recipes for Cookies

by mithrel



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Baking, Blanket Permission, Domestic, Fluff, Other, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-11
Updated: 2011-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-24 12:59:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The TARDIS crew baking cookies. Just because.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Recipes for Cookies

“I didn’t even know the TARDIS _had_ a kitchen,” the Doctor complains.

“That’s because all you eat is that glop from the replicator,” Amy shoots back.

The Doctor sighs. “It’s not a replicator, it’s a synthesizer. Totally different.”

“Whatever. Pass the sugar.”

“Is there a reason we’re baking cookies?” Rory asks, as he rummages in a cupboard.

“Do you need a reason to make cookies?” Amy carefully measures out the sugar. Her cookies are going to be the only decent ones, she’s sure. Rory had put too much milk in his, so had had to add more flour to soak it up, then more milk as he added too much flour. And she doesn’t want to speculate on what kind of cookies the Doctor is making. So far he’s added cinnamon; sugar; chocolate, butterscotch and caramel chips; peppermint extract, and she doesn’t even know what else.

Amy herself is making chocolate chip cookies. Classic, universal, and nearly impossible to mess up.

Speaking of messes…

Rory’s got flour in his hair, and the Doctor’s portion of the counter looks like an explosion in a candy factory. She sighs, puts her tray in the oven, and walks over to the less catastrophic of the two.

“Oi!” Rory complains as she brushes off his hair.

“Oh, c’mere, you!” she says, and spins him around for a kiss.

The Doctor pouts, so she sighs, walks over and kisses him too.

Rory’s cookies somehow manage to be both burned and underdone. The Doctor’s threaten to send them into a diabetic coma just looking at them.

Amy’s are perfect, but she doesn’t rub it in.


End file.
